Say what you will about Rish . . . it can't be worse than what he says about himself.

"I hope it's gonna make you notice,
I hope it's gonna make you notice . . .
Someone like me."
Kings of Leon

"I don't think anyone knows what they really think--or perhaps even what they really know--until it's written down."
Stephen King

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

April 11th, 2007

A good friend of mine started doing a podcast the other day. He works with high-end equipment and was able to record it there at his job. I was really impressed by his podcast, partly because he actually finished something he started on, and partly because he sounded comfortable and professional.

Not everybody has a good podcast voice or personality. It's like when you turn on the radio and there's a new DJ on your station. Sometimes they sound like nine year olds working a tape recorder, and sometimes they sound real good, like Wolfman Jack and Rick Dees created a lovechild.

I was going to write a little bit about the combination of pride and jealousy that I feel when a friend of mine succeeds. I don't know if I will now, but it probably says a lot about me that I often feel disappointment when a buddy achieves something worthwhile or of value. It's not that I want them to fail, it's just that I want to succeed, or share in their success, or feel a part of it all. Surely that's not a character flaw that's solely mine, is it?

Hey, maybe I'm a scumbag, I don't know. After all, I've never put forth the effort to create a podcast. I don't know how I would post it, and I doubt anybody would want to listen to it (since sod-all read my blog anymore), so I've not spent the sweat and headaches to produce one. I've thought about podcasting, considered it, and ultimately forgot about it (or at least put it on the Shelf of Eternal Procrastination). Hmmm, maybe that does make me a scumbag.

About Me

Not much can be said about Mr. Outfield that hasn't been said by the average parent to scare their children into behaving, into going to sleep, or keeping their mouths shut about what they saw take place in the woodshed.